


Priceless

by elle_nic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellatrix is horny on main but it's unfulfilled at the moment, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Fluff, Hermione is the only one with a braincell, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Narcissa can be kinda mean, there will be mistakes im feeling reckless though so i dont care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_nic/pseuds/elle_nic
Summary: Bellatrix needs a cuddle. That's it. That's the fic.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 200





	Priceless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> For appended!! I literally wrote this in like 40 minutes be kind to me im beggin

“Narcissa is terribly upset at you,” was not what Bellatrix wanted to hear when Hermione got home late. She was expecting an apology for tardiness perhaps, maybe silence and a soft press of Hermione’s lips to her cheek. Not that disapproving tone that she uses to make Bellatrix do something horrible like _apologise to her sister_. Life just wasn’t fair at all.

“She can be whatever she wants, as if I care,” Bellatrix huffs from her armchair. She glares at Hermione, who shucks her coat and hangs it by the door to their cottage. She takes off her shoes next, as Bella knew she would; as Hermione does every night. Her routine never varies, only the speed and her intention. Bellatrix doesn’t sense any _beneficial_ intentions from her wife at the moment. All this Narcissa nonsense is ruining what should be a perfectly _busy_ evening.

“Cissy ruins everything,” she mumbles under breath. Hermione, of course, _damn her_ , hears.

“Bella,” is the warning tone.

“What? She never gets in trouble, only me! You always take her side and _I_ am your wife! Not her!”

Bellatrix has leapt to her feet, rageful and infuriated. Hermione can tell it’s to cover up the hurt she’s feeling.

“She did not explode your roses,” Hermione says calmly, walking towards her volatile wife.

“We don’t even _have_ roses,” grumped the dark witch. Hermione’s lips twitched, but she managed at the last moment to quell the indulgent smile. Having Bellatrix as a wife was sometimes like having another toddler who could never be settled.

“You miss the point.”

“I understand the sodding point!”

“And why is it a point that even needs to be made? Narcissa has never ruined a part of our home, and yet hers is always under your fire somehow.” Now standing in front of the slightly shorter raven-haired witch, Hermione sees something she’s missed. Bellatrix is upset, but it’s more than being peeved at the conversation.

“Cissy never gets in trouble,” Bellatrix says again. Hermione frowns and moves to embrace her lover.

“What did Cissy do, darling?” she whispers. Bella huffs as she turns her face into her neck.

“She says things to me and I get upset and then everyone takes her side. _You_ take her side,” Bella moans. Hermione tightens her hold on Bella and rocks them gently back and forth.

“What did she say?”

Her wife pauses for a moment.

“She thinks you never get rest at home because of me. It’s why you work so much. She says I’m too intense.” Hermione frowns. She had mentioned to Narcissa a few weeks ago that her homelife was intense in response to why she was tired. She made no mention of it being Bellatrix’s fault or even something to remedy at all.

“Well, she’s not me. Her opinion of you as a wife doesn’t matter. Only mine does, and my opinion is that you are my favourite part of coming home, yes?” she says softly. Bella nods and grips onto Hermione tighter. “Come,” Hermione says, turning and detaching from Bellatrix to sit the unoccupied armchair. She sits and not a moment after she’s settled, Bellatrix is curled in her lap, face in Hermione’s neck and clinging. Hermione wraps her arms around the petite woman, glad to be home.

“Next time someone upsets you, you cannot blow up a part of their home,” Hermione says. “Especially your sister’s. I will talk to her about today, but you must promise me, Bella.”

“Yes, yes, I promise,” is the grumbled response Hermione gets.

“Good. Now tell me, how was Atlas today?”

“Dreadful. He’s getting far too good at that face you do.”

“That’s my boy,” Hermione chuckles into her wife’s hair.

It’s not as busy as Bellatrix wanted it to be. She had planned out at least four orgasms for them each, but it’s still nice, she supposes. Or it is. Until Atlas wakes with lungs that Bellatrix is certainly responsible for. Hermione gets him, feeds him and settles him back to sleep. She does the same with Bellatrix, and though she’s angry at herself for messing up their evening before it began, the look on Cissy’s face as her prized roses were bombarda’ed was priceless.

“Stop smirking,” Hermione mumbles as they drift to sleep.

“Yes, my love.”


End file.
